The Shifter (11 page)

“Me? No, I can’t.”

“I need help carrying her out. There’s a stretcher in the room. We can carry her out the side gate and take her to Aylin’s.”

He shook his head. “I’ll lose my job.”

“She’ll lose her
life
.”

He flinched. “This isn’t my fault.”

“No, all you did was look the other way while they did it. How many apprentices are up there, Kione? How many did the Luminary use and toss away?”

“Thirty maybe, in that room.”

His pause yanked the heat right out of me. “In
that
room?”

“It’s the largest one, but there are two others. Maybe fifteen people each. Mostly second and third cords who were healing at the ferry site. Elder Mancov said the disease came from the Verlattan refugees, and that’s why so many got sick so fast.” Kione leaned closer. “You’re saying that isn’t true?”

Sixty people. Two thirds of the League at least, if not more. And I’d bet every last one of them was born in Geveg.

“No,” I said, voice tight, “it’s not true. There is no disease.”

Aylin gasped a sob and covered her mouth with both hands. “Kione, you have to help us.”

“I can’t!”

“But we have to stop him.”

“You can’t take on the League—that’s insane.”

“Can you continue to do nothing?” I asked softly. It was about more than just saving Tali now. I had to get her out for the others, the sixty who didn’t have a sister willing to do anything to save them. I couldn’t accuse the Luminary on my own. The Governor-General would never listen to a homeless, useless Taker about what the Luminary was doing. He might listen to Tali, a credible League apprentice who’d been through it. Who’d escaped it. If the Governor-General listened, he might stop the Luminary and demand enough pynvium from the Duke to save the rest.

If, if, if. Just as bad as maybe.

But there was hope there as well. The governorship of Geveg may have been a reward for ending our rebellion, but even I had to admit the Governor-General had treated us fairly ever since, Baseeri man or not. Besides, he’d have quite the riot if word spread that he’d let his pynvium run out and his Healers die, and the Duke wouldn’t stand for that. He might even march his soldiers our way after he finished with Verlatta. He’d done a lot worse to the folks in Sorille when they refused to stay quiet.

Kione just stared, his jaw clenched.

“Can you continue to do nothing?” I asked again.

“I’m not risking—”

“I’m not asking you to. When I show up just after sunrise, will you do nothing when I walk in, no matter what I’m carrying?” If I couldn’t get Tali out, I’d have to take the pynvium
in
and risk an Elder sensing it. Thirty-three pieces probably filled a mighty big sack.

Aylin shook her head. “You can’t go back in there alone.”

“Kione? Will you?”

He wiped the sweat off his upper lip and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll even go in a little early and keep Lanelle at breakfast long as I can, but that’s all. I’m not crossing the Luminary for anybody.”

“Thank you.”

He scoffed and rubbed his palms on his thighs. “If you get caught, you don’t know me.”

“Fair enough.”

He slunk away without another word, not even a look back. As Grannyma used to say, sometimes you had to kill a cow to save the herd, but did I have the right to do it? I ordered coffee to keep me awake a few more hours, and enough supper for Aylin and me. There was still time before I had to leave for Zertanik’s and make a choice for those who couldn’t.

I prayed I was making the right one.

ELEVEN

“P
unctual as well as smart,” Zertanik said as the clock tower chimed midnight. He held the door open for me and I walked past him, leaving my conscience on the porch. It curled up next to my principles.

The front room was empty, save for the same blond woman, who counted oppas in neat stacks on the counter. An awful lot of stacks.

“This way, dear.” We slipped in the same door as before. The same softly lit room and out through the servants’ door. The same hall I’d walked earlier. The same room where I’d sacrificed a fisherman to save a rich man’s daughter.

They were the only things that felt the same.

“You know this will kill them,” I said. “The ones who take the pain.”

“Speculation.”

“People I shifted to are dying. The fisherman might already be dead. These folks need to know that before they agree to this.”

“If any leave, there won’t be enough healing for all that lovely pynvium you want.”

I swallowed my objections. “How many are there to heal?”

“Nine.”

Acceptable losses. The war had taught me all about those.

“Let’s get started then. I haven’t got all night.”

Zertanik grinned, and for a horrible second I thought he might ruffle my hair. “As you wish, dear.”

He brought them in like guests at one of the Duke’s balls.

“The Jonalis. The husband broke both legs, and they’ll be dividing it among the four uncles.

“Kestra Novaik. She’ll be taking her son’s crushed shoulder this evening.

“The brothers Fontuno, paying an undisclosed amount to this young lady who prefers to remain anonymous.”

Most were Baseeri, which made it easier. Two looked Verlattan, who had probably traded everything they’d escaped with for this. Those were harder. One family was Gevegian, and I really wanted to tell them to run.

I didn’t. Instead, I
drew
. I
pushed
. I tried not to look at their faces, but every heal started with my hand on their foreheads and their hearts. Pain in the eyes of one, fear in the eyes of the other. Each stared at me, then looked away. I didn’t want to think about what they saw.

A snapped back. A shattered hand. Hurt after hurt slid through me. Chunk after chunk of pynvium plinked into a bag near my feet.

“The Mustovos, with their son and, well, someone whose name isn’t important.”

Two men in night-guard’s uniforms carried in a man dressed not as fine. His wrists and ankles were bound, and a rag flopped from his mouth. They’d kidnapped someone off the street?

Shiverfeet raced down my back and out the door, leaving me numb. “What’s going on?”

“Number seven, dear. Wensil Mustovo suffers from multiple knife wounds and a severe head injury.”

“No.” I pointed at the bound man. “He didn’t agree to this. I didn’t agree to this.”

“You agreed to the heals. You never specified the terms.”

“I’m
not
shifting into anyone who didn’t agree to it.” That was no better than cracking a stranger over the head and stealing his money to
buy
pynvium. No, worse, it’d be murdering him for it.

I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m not doing it.”

The Mustovos watched me without the tears and the wails expected of worried parents. No one had gotten
knifed
on the ferry. Whatever this man had done came after, and he’d grabbed his own thorns.

The father leaned closer to Zertanik. “Corraut promised us you’d cover this until our pynvium arrived. That was the deal. I’m not giving you the boat if—”

“We’ll work it out—no need to get hasty.” Zertanik patted him on the arm, then turned back to me. “Dear, you agreed.”

“Not to this. Not to those without a choice.” I had maybe twenty-one pynvium pieces in my bag. Was it enough to save Tali, Danello, and the twins? Save them all?

It had to be. “I’m done.” I grabbed my bag and slung it over my shoulder.

“Dear, this is unprofessional.” Zertanik placed his hand on my arm, a lighter touch than hands that big ought to have. “The Mustovos are doing a
lot
for this heal.”

“Then pay them back.” I shoved past him. The light touch turned to steel on my arm.

“We had an agreement. Other people have agreements with me based on your cooperation. You simply cannot change your mind.”

I’d be a fool to miss the threat in his tone, but I was a fast learner and he’d taught me well. “We agreed to the pynvium equivalent of what I healed. I haven’t taken anything I didn’t earn.”

“We agreed on thirty-three pieces.”

“Consider me on sale.” I yanked my arm away and slammed the door behind me.

I’d managed to grab a few hours’ sleep, but my fingers were shaky as I wrote Danello’s address on a scrap of paper in Aylin’s room. The sun was just starting to rise, so if Kione kept his promise, he’d be showing up to take Lanelle to breakfast soon.

I handed Aylin the address. “If I’m not back by midmorning, fetch a Taker from one of the pain merchants for him and the twins. I have the pynvium for it now, so they can’t turn you away this time. Pick one of the ones on the docks, not the fancy ones the aristocrats use, and
definitely
not the new one near the market.”

Aylin shook her head, her face suddenly pale. “Not the pain merchants, Nya. You can’t trust them.”

“Right now we can’t trust the League. The merchants are Danello’s only hope.”

“They’ll probably kill him, and his brothers.”

The anger and fear in her voice made me pause. Aylin rarely ever got annoyed, let alone angry. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”

“No, it won’t!” Aylin bit her lip and looked down at the handful of pynvium chunks I’d given her. The smallest was walnut sized, the largest big as a tangerine. “What if they
don’t heal
them?”

“All they have to do is take the pain. Any Taker can do that.”

She looked at me in horror. “You don’t care if the injury isn’t healed?”

“Aylin.” I groaned, frustrated. I didn’t have time for this. “They’re not really injured. The pain they’re carrying is from their father.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is,” I said.

“What do you mean?” Aylin stared at me, and though I’d spent my whole life hiding what I could do, lying to her now would end our friendship. “I…uh…shifted it into them.”

“You did
what?
”

I explained the whole thing: the chicken rancher, the ferry, the desperate plea in a moonlit alley. Aylin’s eyes got bigger and bigger, and her anger grew with them.

“How could you not tell me?” She paced in her small room, fists balled at her sides. “I
knew
you were hiding something about that tracker. That’s why he was following you, wasn’t it? It had nothing to do with Tali or the Healers.”

“Um…well…”

“You’d better tell me you
healed
their father.” From her expression, if I hadn’t, she’d have probably smacked me with a chair.

“Of course I did. Aylin, what’s wrong?”

“They killed my mother,” she said softly, squeezing the pynvium tight. “She was at the market, waiting for those stupid rations they made us beg for. Some men beat her up because she wouldn’t give up her space in line. We didn’t have enough money to go to the League, so I took her to a pain merchant. He said he healed her, that she was all better, but he lied.” She closed her eyes, and tears slid down her cheeks. “He took her
pain
away but left the parts that were hurt. She didn’t even know. Just kept getting weaker and weaker, and then she was gone.”

“I’m sorry, Aylin.” I sat beside her and gave her a hug. I felt guilty, but I couldn’t stay there comforting her. “I really need to go. Will you find a pain merchant if Tali doesn’t show up?”

She nodded and sniffled. “Won’t you need these for Tali?”

“I have enough for her to fill.”
Please, let me have enough
. I got up and wrapped the now-lighter sack to look like a bundle of clean clothes from the laundry. It was still bulky, but at least it made it easier to sneak into the League.

“Where did you get so much?”

“I bought it.”

“Not for a few oppas you didn’t.” She rolled the chunks around in her hands. “This has to be worth a fortune.”

“It’s worth three lives, Aylin. Two of them children’s.”

“How did you—”

“Later. It’s almost sunrise. Do my braids look right?”

She checked and nodded, looking a lot more like her old self. “A little frayed, but fine.”

“Tali will need food when we get here.” I handed her three oppas. “Buy enough to last a few days.”

“This is too much for a few days’ food.”

“I need you to stay here and wait for Tali. You’ll miss work. The extra should cover it.”

She chewed her bottom lip as if she hadn’t thought about that. “Thanks.”

“Thank
you
.” I hugged her. She smelled like coffee. “Remember what I said about Danello. Don’t forget about them.”
And don’t run off and sell the pynvium yourself
. I didn’t mean to think it, but it popped in there anyway. Aylin wasn’t a bad person, or a desperate one. She’d do as I asked, despite her distrust of the pain merchants, even with a year’s rent, food, and maybe even a new dress in her hands.

I hoped.

“I won’t.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. I’m getting Tali out this time if I have to carry her past the Luminary on my back.”

Sunrise cast Geveg in pale gold. I hurried along with tavern cooks and kitchen mistresses on their way to market ’til the street forked, then crossed the bridge and found myself alone except for the always-present soldiers. League Circle was unusually empty of the hurt and hopeful. Maybe they’d all been turned away yesterday and had accepted there’d be no healing for a while. Except for those willing to pay a Duke’s ransom through the back door.

Of course, no one else knew that part; otherwise there’d be lots of people here, shouting and waving rakes and fishing poles, or whatever weapons they could find. I’d seen such anger before.
And
seen how little it mattered.

I pulled the white scarf off my head and shifted the “laundry” to my hip. Just a simple apprentice returning with her clean clothes. I’d put Tali’s uniform back on, so the gate guard nodded with little more than a glance and yawned. I nodded back and walked through the gate.

Without people in it, the antechamber seemed twice as big, my footsteps twice as loud. I struggled against tiptoeing. Apprentices didn’t need to sneak into their own house, but I stepped as lightly as I could anyway. Past the guard outside the dorms. Through the treatment ward, down the hall of closed doors, and finally to the stairs that led to Tali. I grabbed the rail and started to climb.

“Where are you going?”

Oh, for the love of Saint Saea, did they have people watching these steps? I turned. A stern-faced woman stood at the base of the stairs, four gold cords coiled on her shoulder.

“What?” I asked.

“That way’s restricted.”

“I’m relieving Lanelle for breakfast.” I tried to look bored, look normal, look like this was the most natural thing in the world for me to do.

“What’s your name?”

“Tatsa.” I winced. Did they keep records about who they sent upstairs? “I’m running a little late. Lanelle must think I forgot about her.” I chuckled and waved a hand toward the upper levels. “Can I go now?”

The reasonable request battled with whatever lie the Elders had told everyone about letting folks up the stairs. Her brows wrinkled and she glanced around.

“No one told me Lanelle had a replacement.” The clock tower rang seven, its bell sharp in the quiet morning. “Come with me while I verify this with an Elder.” She glanced down the hall, then grabbed my wrist.

Whoomp.
The pynvium beads of Aylin’s bracelet triggered under the pressure and flashed. My wrist and hand tingled, but whoever had enchanted the beads had done a good job. The pain flashed up and out, over the fourth cord’s hand.

She yelped and snatched her hand away, staring at me with wide eyes.

“Why do you have—”

I tackled her, leaping off the stairs like a frog from a tree. She squealed as I knocked her to the floor; then her cry shifted to a wheezy gasp. It was only a matter of seconds until she caught her breath and fought back. Running I was good at, but fighting? I swung the sack, slamming it against her head. Her head flew back and cracked against the tile. She stilled.

For a terrible second I thought I’d killed her, but then she groaned. I felt my way in real quick and sighed. Just unconscious, not even a bone bruise. She’d be out for a bit, but not nearly long enough for me get Tali.

I scanned the hall, but no one dashed into view to see what all the noise had been about. Moving her would take time Tali might not have, but I couldn’t leave her there. Folks might be willing to overlook a lot of things in the League these days, but an unconscious fourth cord on the floor wasn’t likely to be one of them.

Trembling, I dragged her to one of the empty treatment rooms down the hall and plopped her behind a cot. Doubtful anyone would be using the room this early. I bound her hands and feet with her cords, which seemed pretty fitting to me, then shoved Aylin’s scarf into her mouth. With luck, no one would go looking for her until Tali and I were gone.

I slipped out of the room and resumed my climb. Kione leaned against the door at the end of the hall, same as before. He stood straight as a soldier as I stepped onto the landing, then slumped his shoulders when he saw it was me.

“I’d hoped you weren’t going to show up.”

“Well, I’m here.” I fought the urge to look behind me.

He eyed my “laundry” but didn’t say a word, like we agreed. With a deep breath, he opened the door and walked inside. “Hey, Lanelle, your relief’s here. Let me buy you breakfast.”

Lanelle yawned and smoothed the wrinkles in her white uniform. Behind her was a cot with a green vest lying across the foot. She’d slept here?

“I’m starving,” she told Kione, then turned to me. “Do I have time to wash, or do you need to get back soon?”